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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741665">silver</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvervelour/pseuds/silvervelour'>silvervelour</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RuPaul's Drag Race RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Lesbian AU, Library AU, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:42:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvervelour/pseuds/silvervelour</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>But then there’s this girl - Jacqueline, according to her student card - and Jan’s certain that she’s never seen her before because she would have remembered. There’s an affection to her smile that’s instantly unforgettable, and Jan has to type Jacqueline’s student number into the system twice because she mistakes a three for a seven.</p><p>*</p><p>Jan works at her college library and Jackie has a habit of being the last student there at night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gigi Goode/Nicky Doll, Jan Sport/Jackie Cox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>171</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi friends! This is my absolute baby. I haven’t fallen in love with something I’ve written as much as I have with this one in a long time (three purple hearts and in bloom came close)<br/>This will probably be 3 ch’s long!!  </p><p>I hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts!&lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">When Jan takes a job at her college library, she doesn’t think she’ll grow to love it.</p><p class="p2">She begins in her sophomore year, takes book returns and organises the French literature section out back. It’s rarely visited and it’s all that Brita entrusts her with at first. Jan understands why, because she doubts she could navigate beyond the aisles of art and design even if she tried.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Brita, the libraries coordinator, seems to be on the same page and introduces Jan to a new section or genre every month or so not to overwhelm her. She progresses from French literature to new wave feminism by the end of the fall semester and Brita waves her off for Christmas with a hardback copy of <em>tipping the velvet</em> because Jan had told her once over a cup of coffee in their office that it’s her favourite.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey honey, happy holidays”. Brita smiles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan treasures it, and returns in January eager to get back to the photography section which is slowly becoming a favourite. The books are more interesting there than they are in foreign history, or chemistry. They’re bigger and have more appeal and Jan knows that they say never judge a book by it’s cover but it’s hard not to. Some of them are artworks in themselves with their fluorescent spines and it beats the volumes on <em>Curie</em> and <em>Dalton</em> that are boring, no matter how important their subjects.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She spends extra time admiring them. Her hands grip each of them with care as she puts them back on the shelves, double and triple checks that they’re in the correct order. The library is vast and it’s easy to make mistakes, but Jan needs the job and needs the extra credits that come with it. Messing up isn’t an option when passing two of her classes is on the line, and by the time that spring rolls around, Brita gives her the responsibility of locking up early every Sunday.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After hours, the library becomes something that she marvels.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Void of its usual cohort of students and professors, librarians that pace the corridors, it feels somehow larger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The aisles appear longer and the windows that are wide and high seemingly span into the clouds. The dark green and cream walls are warmer under the glow of only the lamp of the front desk, and the oak fixtures are rich, smooth. Jan takes her time in checking each corner of the building, every study booth to ensure that they’re empty. They mostly always are and she’s grateful not to have to disturb anybody, or have anybody disturb her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her sneakers make a hollow thud, an occasional squeak against the sections of floor that are wooden, and drag softly against the carpeted ones. She pulls the sleeves of her chunky sweater over her hands because it might be April but the building is old, and it gets chilly by the time it closes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bag that she brings with her most days is tucked beneath the desk and she swings it across her shoulder with a sigh. There’s nobody around to hear her but it still feels too loud in the silence. Jan swears she could hear a pin drop if it wasn’t for the persistent rain hammering against the windows and the roof, reminding her that a world outside of novels and biographies exists.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She makes the short walk to her apartment that night and realises somewhere between leaving the library and cranking open her front door that she has grown to love it. </span>
</p><p class="p2">Her roommate Nicky greets her with a welcoming smile, tells her that there’s pasta in the oven. Jan pulls her into a hug to thank her and even though Nicky brushes it off like it’s nothing, Jan feels full. She eats the pasta and begins rereading the final chapter of her copy of <em>tipping the velvet</em>, bookmarks it by folding the top corner of a page when Nicky calls her from the living room.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jan! Come watch this movie with me!”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan passes both of her classes with credits to spare and still she stays at the library.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She works when she doesn’t have classes on Tuesday afternoons and Wednesday Mornings, and devotes the entirety of her Sundays. She purchases a takeout coffee from the Cafe down the street and takes one to Brita too, drinks her way through it at the front desk as she watches students trickle in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re always quieter on Sundays, more muted, and Jan observes them with a sense of wonder. Realistically she’s one of them but in her mind she’s in a far off world, watching the boys in sweater vests invade the physics section and the girls in lace and beaded headbands flocking towards poetry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They fit their stereotypes, but it’s the ones that don’t that always make Jan smile to herself over the edge of her desk. She’ll see girls in their embroidered denim jackets, floral scrunchies loose in their hair as they browse though rows of books on mathematics and theory, and will offer them a friendly wave, a kind simper. They’ll grin back and Jan will check out their books for them, log them into the system with an ease that she’s learnt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Has grown to appreciate.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jan?”. Brita swivels in her desk chair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hm?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re mid way through the afternoon. </span>
</p><p class="p2">The library is glowing yellow from the sun beaming through the windows and for a moment Jan feels like it’s summer. The light bounces off of her computer screen and catches the dust floating in the air, makes it look like glitter. Jan turns to face Brita who’s rolling her eyes, nodding towards the cookie that’s balancing in Jan’s hand. She’s all but forgotten about it and she blushes pink when Brita shakes her head, sighs as she stamps a green returned print onto a book.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I said, don’t get anymore crumbs on that keyboard”. Brita laughs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s clicking her way through the next book return, and the student that’s stood at the desk diverts his gaze. He hands Brita his student card wordlessly, taps the tips of his fingers against the wood of the desk. Brita shoots him a glare that isn’t half as harsh as it appears and Jan snorts, turns to her with a mouthful of cookie crumbs. They fall to her chin and then to her lap, and she swipes them away feebly before Brita’s able to scald her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Want one?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan offers up the pack of cookies that she keeps tucked behind her monitor with a smirk. They’re plain chocolate chip, but had been sugar cookies the day prior and oatmeal raisin the week before that. Jan maintains that they’re the best library snacks but Brita shakes her head, slouches in her chair. The click of her computer mouse is audible above her words.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve already had about fifteen today”. She groans.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“May as well make it a sixteenth“.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jan, no-“. She begins.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-<em>Jesus</em>, watch the crumbs!”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan grimaces, mumbles an apologetic <em>sorry</em>. Brita laughs, but takes a cookie like Jan knew that she would. She takes a bite with more delicacy than Jan has ever been able to muster and gives her a wink when Jan pouts. There are crumbs scattered like fairy dust on her lap and around her keyboard, but Jan brushes them into the trashcan at her feet with a huff before reaching for another cookie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a small queue forming at the desk but the atmosphere is easy and calm and Jan calls forward the next person with a smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey sweetie-“. Jan greets.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-Check out?”. </span>
</p><p class="p2">“Please”.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The girl places down a copy of <em>anatomy and physiology</em>, lets it land with a soft thump. Jan chews her way through the remaining half of her cookie as she picks it up and hears the sound of the girl giggling over the crunching in her own ears. Jan pears across the edge of her computer screen and swallows, hard, because it’s a distracting sight if she’s ever seen one and she’s seen many.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s been nearly nine months since she’s started working at the library for three days a week, and in that time she likes to think she’s gotten good at remembering a face as well as occasional names.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s Jaida and Heidi, two business students who visit most Wednesdays and spend their time talking amongst themselves with books spread out across their shared desk, little work being done. There’s also a blonde girl that Jan doesn’t know the name of but she remembers her for her holographic platform sneakers and pastel jumpsuits because it’s who Jan wishes she was. She decorates her backpack in pins and patches and it inspires Jan to buy her own small rainbow that she clips to her lanyard. </span>
</p><p class="p2">But then there’s this girl - <em>Jacqueline</em>, according to her student card - and Jan’s certain that she’s never seen her before because she would have remembered. There’s an affection to her smile that’s instantly unforgettable, and Jan has to type Jacqueline’s student number into the system twice because she mistakes a three for a seven.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jacqueline props an elbow up on the desk and rests her chin in the palm of her hand. She’s not looking at Jan but Jan is looking at her, has her eyes fixated on Jacqueline’s profile that’s backlit by the sunlight and her hair that’s piled into a bun. There are strands framing her face and Jan subconsciously tucks her own hair behind her ears as she’s midway through typing in the books library code. Her fingers fumble with the pages but it’s already time to hand it back over.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan clears her throat, slides it across the desk. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh!-“. Jacqueline laughs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-That was quick”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I only had to type a couple of things in”. Jan shrugs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jacqueline accepts the book back with hands that are adorned in clusters of silver rings, nails that are painted red. She clutches it to her chest, against her green corduroy shirt that she’s tied in a knot above the waist of her baggy jeans. They’re belted with black leather and Jan absolutely does not stare at the sliver of skin that’s visible.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m used to the on campus library”. Jaqueline admits.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan bites at the inside of her cheek to stop herself from blushing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They share a look because Jan knows exactly what Jacqueline means. She’s in no doubt that the librarians at the on campus library are as old as the building itself and lets out a brash laugh that is telling. Jaqueline nods her head with a grin and uses the tip of a finger to push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose from where they’ve slipped. The frames of them are a thick square tortoise shell and Jan tries not to think about the way that they match Jacquelines eyes when she blinks down at her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what it’s like, computers can be fiddly”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jacqueline has pursed her lips. Her cheeks are puckering, eyebrows raising, and Jan’s able to see the laughter bubbling before she hears it. It draws a questioning look from Brita who’s worked through three checkouts in the time that Jan’s completed one, and earns a frustrated sigh from the professor loitering in the science fiction section. Jan giggles along with her and maintains eye contact for a second too long. </span>
</p><p class="p2">“Anyway, thanks-“. Jacqueline’s looking at Jan’s name tag that hangs from her lanyard.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-<em>Jennifer</em>?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Jan wishes that Brita would let her change her name on her tag. Jennifer always feels too formal and she forgets that it’s even hers until somebody repeats it back to her. Jacqueline has already taken a step back from the desk and Jan doesn’t have time to linger on the reaction that it provokes from her, not when her eyes are honing in on the small equals symbol that Jacqueline has tattooed on one wrist and the daisy that she has on the other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh-“. Jan recoils.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-Just Jan is fine”. </span>
</p><p class="p2">Jacqueline nods her head.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well-“. She simpers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, just Jan”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s ten minutes until closing and there are four people left in the library.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan is one of them and two are acting professors that she’s able to recognise as Roberta and Monét, packing up their bags in one of the study booths. The sun outside has already set and Jan begins to switch off the lights, one after another like dominoes. Computer screens fade to black and the aisles of books become never ending roads, alleys of knowledge that she wants to visit over and over again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She takes a walk down one filled with biology and finds the last person in the library.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There are a pile of medical journals stacked on the edge of the table, threatening to topple like a vase. The desk lamp in the study booth is on it’s brightest setting and it’s not hard to decipher the scene of the student hunched over her laptop, the sound of clicking keys being one of the loudest thing in the room. It’s second only to the squeak of Jan’s sneakers against the hardwood floors, and Jan knows the girls face when she looks up with a startled smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because it’s Jacqueline, <em>instantly unforgettable Jacqueline.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looks the same as she had when Jan had last seen her at the front desk hours ago. The only difference is the strands of hair framing her face that have escaped her bun, begun frizzing at her hairline. There’s an oily sheen to her skin that’s new too, but there’s also the blue hue of the screen bouncing off of it and Jan’s eyes are tired, exhausted. She takes a step forward and Jacqueline sits upright, pulls her glasses off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She lets them fall to the desk with a clatter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry-“. Jan winces.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-Need me to put any of these back for you?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jacqueline’s looking at her strangely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One of her eyebrows is arched, and she parts her lips. Jan thinks that she’s going to get an answer but when one doesn’t come she takes a further step forward. It’s tentative, uncertain, but Jacquelines face is blank and the desk lamp is leaving green circles behind every time that Jan blinks. The expression that she’s met with is almost serene and Jan doesn’t know what’s happening.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jan, right?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan nods her head. She looks down towards the lanyard that still hangs from her own neck, only finds it twisted. Her fingers flip it back around but she’s still met with <em>Jennifer Mantione</em> and it makes Jacqueline laugh. She looks across to Jan as she closes her laptop and the cobalt that had been bathing her skin vanishes. Instead she’s doused in the same warmth of the desk lamp and suddenly Jan doesn’t find it as harsh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can you take this one back for me actually?-“. Jacqueline taps at the cover of <em>surgical anatomy.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-I can do it myself if you’re in a rush to lock up or-“.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m on it”. Jan interrupts.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jacqueline continues to smile at her, and it shakes Jan so much that the shelves surrounding her feel like they’re going to give way, fall to the ground in shreds of pages. She doesn’t trust herself to speak for fear of stumbling on her words, and takes ahold of the book that Jacqueline’s passing to her. Jan’s hands are unsteady and she wishes that Jacqueline wasn’t so pretty because she has a job to do and it’s <em>distracting</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be out of here in a second, I promise-“. Jacqueline laughs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-I didn’t realise it’d gotten so late”. She admits.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Jan doesn’t tell her, but she doesn’t think she wants Jacqueline to leave. Her mind is fogged with exhaustion but Jan realises then that if she saw Jacqueline at every shift at the library from then on that it still wouldn’t be enough. It’s crazy and irrational and she has to laugh at the absurdity of it. There’s a voice in the back of her mind that sounds like Nicky and it’s telling her to focus.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or get laid.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No rush-”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-I’ll put this back then double check everything. You’ve got a few minutes”. Jan brushes it off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jacqueline smiles back at her, and Jan’s unable to tell if she’s imagining the blush on her cheeks. If she is then she doesn’t stick around long enough to find out, is already turning on her heel and offering Jacqueline one last smile. Jacqueline beams back and Jan consciously chooses to forget the way her collarbones had shifted beneath her shirt, the dimples in her cheeks that had deepened with each grin. It’s hard to do so but she tries.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And maybe she fails.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her hands grasp at the book and it takes her a minute, two minutes, to remember where it belongs. She only needs to walk two aisles to the left but it feels too far away. She’s still able to hear Jacqueline packing up her laptop, stuffing her books into her satchel, and if she listens closely enough then there’s a faint hum of an ABBA song. Jan mumbles it subconsciously beneath her breath and ghosts her fingertips across the back of the book.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Paper crumples beneath them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan flips the book in her palm, comes to a standstill. The light of the desk lamp that had been visible through the shelves vanishes and with it goes her composure. There’s a post it note stuck to the back of the book and she peels it away as if it’s tissue. She places the book back into it’s allocated section and walks back towards the front desk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There, there is light and Jan’s smile returns.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <strong> <span class="s1">Thanks just Jan! Have a good night! - Jackie xx</span> </strong> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan tucks the post it note into the back pocket of her pants, and this time it doesn’t seem so crazy. She lets herself think of Jaqueline, of <em>Jackie</em>, and her hands full of ornate rings, allows her mind to drift to Jackie’s handwriting that’s cursive and swirly and just as pretty as she is. She’d written it in a green pen and it’s not lost on Jan that it had matched her shirt, the stickers on the shell of her laptop.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It feels nice, and when Jan leaves the library that night, her heart a little bigger, the moon is bright and the sky is silver. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>To say that Brita is nosy would be rude, but she is. Jan loves her for it sometimes and loathes it on every other occasion. Brita pries information from her like juice from a lemon and this time Jan feels bitter. They make it to the end of the afternoon rush and Jan feels a weight lifted when Brita tells her that Jan will be the one to lock up that night like she does every Sunday like clockwork.</p><p>“Med student is still here, by the way”. Brita adds.</p><p>And Jan doesn’t stop herself from lobbing her half eaten cookie in her direction, fixing her with a grin.</p><p>“Her name is Jackie!”.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi friends!!! I am so blown away by all of the lovely feedback on the first part of this, so here’s ch2!!! I forgot to mention in the first ch, but all books mentioned here are real if you didn’t guess already, and the tshirt that jan wears in this ch is one that she wore in the work room on drag race ,,<br/>I’m so in love with this little universe and I hope you guys are too!! Let me know your thoughts!&lt;3</p><p>Also, happy dyke day :))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Jan shares an apartment with Nicky, a handful of minutes from where she works at the library.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s another couple of minutes from her campus and around the block from her favourite cafe. She picks up two takeaway hot chocolates on her way back from her Wednesday shift because it might be nearing summer but Jan doesn’t think there’s ever an unreasonable time for one. She gets hers with cream and marshmallows and Nicky’s with just sprinkles, presses the elevator button up to her apartment with her elbow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nicky’s already waiting at the door for her wearing a fluffy robe and a smirk. Jan had text her in advance, warned her that she’d forgotten her keys for the third time that week. It’s a regular occurrence that Jan wishes would have come to an end by now but Nicky looks far from irritated and so she lets herself giggle. She hands over the burgundy cup as she kicks off her sneakers in the hallway, skips through to the lounge where she drops her bag onto the couch. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her lanyard is still swinging from her neck like a pendulum, and this time she takes it off with a grin instead of a disgruntled sigh. Brita had handed her a new ID card sometime during the afternoon and Jan had marvelled at the blue embossing that had read <em>Jan</em> and not <em>Jennifer</em>. She looks at it with pride as she hangs it on their shared notice board in the living and thinks that the months of persuasion weren’t wasted. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s small and insignificant, but it eases Jan’s soul. It’s feels reminiscent of dyeing her hair the blonde she had always wanted, and the lilac when she needs it. It’s like conjuring up a new melody in her music classes, or buying a new orchid that join the collection on her windowsill. She paints each plant pot in swirls of colour and that’s what her new name tag feels like. </span>
</p><p class="p2">Nicky is taking her first sip of her hot chocolate, and Jan mirrors her with a smile. She beckons Jan to the kitchen with promises of burritos, and Jan follows when her stomach gurgles, reminds her that she’s eaten nothing but the remainder of her pack of gingersnaps since lunch. There are two plates prepared, true to Nicky’s word, and they carry them back to the living room where the TV is backlit by the setting sun.</p><p class="p2">It’s a little after eight. There are old episodes of a reality show that Jan doesn’t care for lighting up the cream room. Nicky appears far more engrossed and Jan has to hold back a chuckle that threatens to spill past her lips when they reach the final one. There are empty plates sat on the coffee table along with two paper cups and Jan feels content.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know how you watch this”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s quality entertainment”. </span>
</p><p class="p2">“For who?”. Jan snickers.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The look that Nicky shoots her could kill, she’s certain of it. Jan raises her hands in mock surrender and laughs at the pillow that Nicky lobs her way. It bounces off of Jan’s shoulder and falls to the ground but by the time that they calm the sky outside is dark. Jan flicks on the overhead lamp and settles back down on the couch, tucks her feet beneath her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m thinking about picking up a Friday shift at the library”. Jan voices.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And she already knows what Nicky’s thinking, because she’s thinking it too. She had thought it when Brita had initially suggested the idea, and had thought about it for the remainder of the day. She’d continued to mull over it as she’d made the short walk home and still continues to ponder it with Nicky’s eyes on her, scrutinising. They narrow briefly, considers Jan carefully.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What was the cute med student called again?”. Nicky smirks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Jan had been naive to think that they could have a conversation that didn’t touch on Jackie. She whines in protest, high in her throat, and attempts to fight the blush that she knows is burning on her cheeks. Nicky’s gaze is unrelenting but Jan’s unable to look away from her because she knows that she has a point.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or several.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jackie”. Jan breathes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It comes out like a sweet exhale. A police car passes outside but Jan is still smiling to herself, is unable to push down the swell of something that rises in her chest. Nicky purses her lips and remains silent until she doesn’t. Jan prepares herself for a barrage of questions, takes back the breath that she had released.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And how many times have you spoken to <em>Jackie</em>?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nicky is prodding, and Jan tries and fails not to think about all of the heated glimpses at one and other that are slowly growing braver, or their short and hushed conversations that have began to progress past can I help you with anything’s. It’s been nearly a month and three days a week no longer feel like enough when she wants eight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A couple”. Jan plays off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nicky doesn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes, and Jan doesn’t blame her. It’s neither an accurate answer or a believable one, but she knows that Nicky wouldn’t drop the subject even if it was. She props her arm up on the back of the couch, and Jan shrinks because Nicky’s stare is harsher than that of the lightbulb above them. </span>
</p><p class="p2">“Fucking useless lesbian-“. Nicky beams.</p><p class="p2">“-Save yourself the hassle of an extra shift and just talk to her”.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan being Jan, takes the extra shift anyway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pretends to contemplate it, though knows realistically that her decision had been made the moment that Brita had suggested it. There’s not a question in her mind about longer hours, less time to herself, not when she gets to surround herself with books and warmth and Jackie, if she’s lucky.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fridays become something that she looks forward to quickly, despite never knowing what will greet her when she opens the oak panelled double doors. On the first Friday that she works she doesn’t see Jackie at all, barely gets the chance to give her a fleeting thought because of an error that occurs within their checkout system. Brita curses out the computers and Jan goes home that night with a headache, gets met by Nicky who’s ready with an <em>I told you so.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The following Friday is much of the same. Jan is left to lock up after Brita had left an hour early and the library feels vacant despite being packed. She tells herself that it’s not because of the one booth in the biology section being empty - the one that Jackie usually chooses to occupy - but she has a hard time believing it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s nobody faintly humming Fleetwood Mac in the background, and the medical journals that Jan’s only ever seen Jackie make use of remain gathering dust on the shelves. Jan spots a copy of surgical anatomy when she’s returning a book on renaissance art and is brought back to the post it note Jackie had left her. It’s still sat on her desk in her apartment and the sheer fact that it exists makes her smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Brita shoots her a look from the medieval history section and it’s all of the thought that Jan gives to it until Sunday.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because Jackie is there.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And each worry that’s been plaguing Jan since she began the day start to evaporate. She doesn’t think about the cart of books that have been brought to them from the on campus library that need relocating, or the jar of coffee that’s nearing its end in the office. She knows that it’ll need replacing soon, before Brita complains of lack of caffeine, but it’s the last thing on her mind when Jackie’s eyes are locking with her own, and her smile is soft and timid.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan lets her feet carry her towards Jackie’s desk, towards the smile that’s pulling her in like a rope. It winds around her wrist, tugs until she’s standing in front of Jackie. She leans against the desk, crosses her legs at the ankles, and tries to blend in with the heavy textbooks and papers that surround her. The look that Jackie gives her tells her that it doesn’t work and the chuckle that she exhales confirms it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Casual”. Jackie comments.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her right hand drops the pen that she had been writing with, onto a notepad that’s purple. Jan watches it roll off of it and onto the desk, and knows that they’re both blushing when Jackie smirks up at her. It’s mid afternoon and the lighting is gentle, and the conversation isn’t one that Jan has dreamed of but it’s one that she’ll take, gladly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Brita will ban me from leaving the desk if she sees me chatting to people”. Jan pouts.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not an untrue statement, but it is over dramatic. Jackie looks like she’s on the verge of making a joke but instead arches an eyebrow, leans forward in her seat. She rests her chin in the palms of her hands, her elbows digging into the table, and Jan almost misses the flash of mischief that appears in her grin because she’s too focused on the way that her lips curve, the burgundy of her shirt that compliments her skin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Better not get you into any trouble then, hm?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I-“.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan’s mouth runs dry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She almost tells Jackie that she doesn’t care. Doesn’t care about the potential scalding from Brita because it would be worth it if it meant talking to Jackie for a fraction of a second longer. She very nearly almost tells her, but the words don’t come out and they don’t seem important the longer Jackie stares at her, blinks up her from beneath fluttering lashes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So she chooses to ignore it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-What are you writing about?”. Jan tries.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie reclines in her seat, but the smile doesn’t fall from her face. She looks open, welcoming, and Jan wants to be wrapped up in the satin of her shirt. Jackie picks the dropped pen back up between careful fingers, taps it against the screen of her laptop. Jan squints through her glasses at the pixels on the display and Jackie nudges it closer with a nod of encouragement.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Influenza”. Jackie deadpans.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, <em>charming</em>”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan’s response is as laced with sarcasm as Jackie’s and they both have to silence their laughter. Jackie digs her teeth into her bottom lip and Jan watches as it reddens then blanches as Jackie relaxes. She fiddles with the pen in her hand, clicks it three times before placing it down again. It rolls to the edge like it had the first time and Jan feels light.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can say it’s boring, I know it is”. Jackie grins.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wasn’t going to say anything, but-“.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan’s words trail off into nothingness but Jackie is still smiling. It doesn’t spread to her ears but the earnest look that she’s giving Jan means that it doesn’t have to. Jackie is still fiddling with the pen too and Jan follows the tip of it as Jackie reaches out, pokes at Jan’s knee. A quiet squeak leaves Jan’s lips and there’s a small green dot on her skin and Jackie has put it there so she never wants it to fade.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie gawks up at her sheepishly and Jan knows that she’s not imagining it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-How long are you staying here today?”. Jan adds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it’s then that Jackie’s smile finally falters.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She frowns, eyebrows knitting together, and lets out a huff that Jan feels in her bones. Her attention turns back to the stacks of books and papers surrounding her, the notepad that she has open as well of her laptop that’s glowing ominously. There’s no more than a paragraph written at the top of the page and Jan understands without having to ask that it isn’t enough.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I might go get some snacks soon but, uh, as long as it takes to finish this thing”. Jackie grunts.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan nods her head, because it’s something that she’s familiar with. She knows what it’s like to be swimming in sentences and drowning in deadlines, to have a word count that’s so far off in the distance it feels like it can never be reached. She understands the feeling of rowing to the finish line with a faulty ore and it’s why she’s hurrying out an offer that catches Jackie off guard.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I keep a pack of cookies behind my desk-“. Jan blurts.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-I can bring some over if you like?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t have to, just-“.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve got cookies?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie’s smile returns as quick as it had vanished. She’s pure in her excitement and Jan wants to kiss her. It’s not the first time that she’s thought it and she’s sure that it won’t be the last, but to have it cross her mind when Jackie’s staring directly at her with her eyes wide and hopeful, makes Jan’s heart thud.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It pounds along to the rhythm of Jackie’s foot tapping against the leg of the table and Jan needs to walk away. She knows that if she doesn’t then she’s going to crack, and it’s not the time, not yet. Jackie’s looking at her like she’s holding the world in her hands and Jan thinks that she might be when she turns on her heel, calls over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be right back!”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie gets her cookies and Jan gets a lecture from Brita.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t come in the form of telling Jan that she’s wasting time like she had expected it would. It comes instead in the way that Brita narrows her eyes, sees through Jan like she’s glass. Jan slumps back into her desk chair and bows her head. There’s a blush on her cheeks that she thinks is becoming a permanent fixture and she doesn’t want Brita to clock it. </span>
</p><p class="p2">The smirk that gets shot her way tells her that she already has.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you just-“.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were flirting with that med student”. Brita squeals.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan doesn’t deny it, but she doesn’t plan on giving Brita the satisfaction, either. She stays silent, picks up where she left off, logs back in to her computer because there’s a queue forming at the desk. She works through each checkout and return quicker than she does her packs of cookies this time around, doesn’t stop even when Brita’s gaze threatens to burn a hole through her temple.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To say that Brita is nosy would be rude, but she is. Jan loves her for it sometimes and loathes it on every other occasion. Brita pries information from her like juice from a lemon and this time Jan feels bitter. They make it to the end of the afternoon rush and Jan feels a weight lifted when Brita tells her that Jan will be the one to lock up that night like she does every Sunday like clockwork.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Med student is still here, by the way”. Brita adds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Jan doesn’t stop herself from lobbing her half eaten cookie in her direction, fixing her with a grin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Her name is Jackie!”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Brita leaves as the sun is setting and Jan still remains sat at her desk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The library feels warmer than it ever has at a little after eight and Jan knows then that summer is lurking around the corner. She’s clad in a t-shirt that reads <em>femme forever</em>, and it’s soft and pink against her skin. The front of it is tucked loosely into her lilac jeans and the light that’s streaking through the windows highlights the smudge of chocolate on her knee. Jan doesn’t know how it had got there and doesn’t care to find out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because summer is coming and Jan is happy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She begins her last walk around the corridors of the library a handful of minutes later, after she basks in the way that the light streaks through the tall windows. They form rainbows on the floor and paint the bookshelves gold and Jan still appreciates the sight as much as she had the first time she’d seen it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She welcomes the routine of the room growing a shade or two darker by the time that she makes it from international relations to French poetry, and takes a moment to herself. She stands relaxed, her fingertips brushing against the spine of <em>the flowers of evil</em>. The peach of the cover bounces off of her skin and then jumps away when the sun does too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oranges become blues and gold turns to silver but Jan’s skin is still warm. Her feet carry her through to chemistry and then physics and Jan tells herself that there isn’t a reason that she’s saving biology for last. She convinces herself that it has nothing to do with the lingering hope that she has that Jackie will still be there, typing away at her laptop with a frown creased into her pretty forehead, books scattered around her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a thought that Jan scalds herself for because it’s not something that she should be thinking about.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s nothing important about Jackie, with her strong hands full of rings or her curly dark hair that reminds Jan of silk. And her eyes don’t matter, either. Her eyes that are bright and enigmatic and so full of life that Jan feels like she’d never lived before looking into them. They make Jan’s heart feel like it’s a page being crumpled by Jackie’s own fingertips yet it’s irrelevant.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">No it isn’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s1">It can’t be.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because there’s nothing insignificant about the way Jackie is looking at her, there and then and real.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s in the same booth that she had been on the first Sunday that Jan had seen her all of those months ago, tucked into a study booth with her head buried in a textbook. It’s been hours since Jan had last walked past her desk but it looks much the same. There are medical journals piled high like turrets around its queen, and Jackie still has her laptop open, this time words filling the screen.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re illegible from far away and Jan doubts she’d understand them even if she had her nose pressed against the screen. It’s all scientific jargon that she knows is important but is as foreign to her as not eating cold takeout for breakfast at least once a week. She snorts aloud at the thought and if Jackie hasn’t noticed her already then she does then. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, <em>shit</em>-“. Jackie flinches.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-You’re closing aren’t you?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie’s eyes are wide, and Jan doesn’t stop herself from giggling quietly. She takes a small step closer - doesn’t want to startle Jackie more than she already has - and watches as Jackie’s jaw tightens and then slackens once more. Her hair is disheveled, scraped back into a ponytail, and her lipstick that had once been a shade of terracotta has faded back into the natural pink of her lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan won’t admit to liking it but there’s something enticing about the way that Jackie has the sleeves of her shirt rolled up to her elbows, buttons undone at the neck. She watches Jackie gulp and looks back up to her eyes as she nears the desk, sits in the opposite side of the booth. Jan leans her arms onto the surface of the table, nudges a copy of <em>infectious diseases</em>, and Jackie is still frozen.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Technically we closed half an hour ago”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? Wait, really? Oh my <em>god</em>-“.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s like watching a pin drop.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-<em>Jan</em>! You should have just kicked me out! Jesus, I’ll get out of your way, let me pack up quickly and then-“.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey-”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan keeps her voice soft, soothing. Jackie’s eyes are panicked and Jan wants to reach out, take ahold of her hand that’s gripping at the edge of the desk. She almost does so when Jackie heaves in a breath, lets it back out again in a frustrated sigh, but decides that if she’s going to do this then she’s going to do it right. Jackie stays silent and Jan’s palms are sweating and their gazes lock.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-It’s alright, there’s no rush”. Jan tells her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The dim glow of the desk lamp still feels too bright. Jan turns it down a notch with a shaking hand, and tries to believe her own words. It’s alright. She repeats it like a chant in her head but the smile that blossoms like tulips across Jackie’s face is distracting. Jan gets lost somewhere between the crinkles by her eyes and the dimples in her cheeks, lets herself melt into the couch of the booth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When did it get dark?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like, half an hour ago”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Oh</em>”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan half expects Jackie to crumble, but instead she cackles and it makes Jan’s heart soar. Her head tilts back in a laugh that feels like the first drop of rain on a too hot summers day and Jan would be happy if she drowned in the storm. Jackie lets her head rest against the back of the booth and Jan crosses her legs beneath the desk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I must be a nightmare for you, huh?”. Jackie smirks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not at all”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Jan means it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The words nightmare and Jackie don’t correlate for her. She tries to connect them in her mind but the puzzle pieces don’t fit because Jan thinks of Jackie as nothing but a dream. She’s ethereal from the little that Jan knows of her and day dream worthy in the ways that she hopes to understand her some day. Jackie is still looking at her with a faint smirk and Jan commits it to memory.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Still tackling influenza?”. Jan asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah-“. Jackie nods.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-It’s due tomorrow and my roommates an idiot”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie says it like it explains everything and Jan guesses that it does. She knows first hand what it’s like when Nicky decides to get on every last one of her nerves and prevent her from doing work, meeting deadlines. It doesn’t make her love and appreciate Nicky any less but it does make her want to throw Nicky’s favourite pair of shoes out of their living room window.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So she nods in understanding, glances at her watch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Another ten minutes have skipped past, and Jan wishes they would trickle instead. There’s a hint of uncertainty present on Jackie’s face but there’s already an idea brewing in Jan’s chest. It’s one that she knows Brita would kill her for if she ever found out but she exhales it anyway, offers it out to Jackie in the palm of her hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How much do you have left to write?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, uh, just a conclusion”. Jackie brushes off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan nods her head again, uncrosses her legs easily. Jackie looks tired but Jan is leaning forward, stretching her arm out across the table. It floats across a sea of books and Jackie’s reaching out too as if Jan is her rescue, her lifeline back to the shore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok-“. Jan smiles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This time her hand does meet Jackie’s. </span>
</p><p class="p2">“-I’ll wait”.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie tries to protest, but Jan is nothing if not persistent.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And maybe a little infatuated. </span>
</p><p class="p2">She leaves Jackie scribbling the outlines of a vague plan into her notepad, begins her walk to the staff kitchen. She has to wind through the literature section on her way there and picks up a copy of <em>the price of salt</em>, clutches it between her fingers. She sets it on the wonky table in the middle of the kitchen as she pours two cups of coffee, hunts through the cupboards.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There are packs of chips that have been labelled with the names of some of Jan’s coworkers, a bag of candy that she knows it Brita’s from the overly obnoxious <em>do not touch</em> written on a neon post it note. Jan lets herself laugh at it but dips in for a chocolate bar, caramel and sweet and enough to perk both hers and Jackie’s energy. Brita will notice it missing but Jan convinces herself that if she replaces it the following morning then she’ll get away with it, hopefully.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She stuffs the bar into the front pocket of her jeans and carries one cup of coffee in each hand. <em>The price of salt</em> is tucked beneath her arm and she has to push the kitchen door back open with her hip, keep it there with her shoulder. The dark of the corridors compared to the light of the kitchen is a shock to her eyes, and Jan curses beneath her breath when she rounds the corner, elbow clattering against a shelf.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A chuckle comes from the biology section and it feels warmer than the mugs against her palms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jan?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Coming!”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan walks the next two aisles quicker than she had the last. The book almost slips from under her arm and her sneakers are rubbing against her heels, but when Jan is approaching the booth Jackie stands up. She takes ahold of both of the mugs in Jan’s hands and sets them down onto a free patch of table. One mug is a forest green and the other a regal purple, and Jackie gravitates towards the one that Jan knew she would.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I forgot to ask how you liked your coffee so I just made it like mine”. Jan winces.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie has the green mug clutched tightly to her chest and looks up towards her. She tilts her head to the side, a soft smile taking over her face, and shrugs her shoulders like it’s the simplest thing, as if it doesn’t matter. Jan sits back down opposite her and places the copy of <em>the price of salt</em> on top of <em>infectious diseases</em>, picks up the other cup. She brings it to her lips and takes a slow slip because she knows that if she doesn’t then her words will fumble.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie does the same.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Milk and three sugars?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah”. Jan nods.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can live with that”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It takes an hour, or a little longer, and in that time Jan realises that she’s screwed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They stay silent for the most part as Jackie types out word after word, and Jan smiles at her over the edge of her laptop. The realisation comes in slow waves that lap across her body first and her mind second, and the book that she had picked up to occupy herself becomes nothing but a mask to hide behind. She reads the same sentence a hundred times and instead focuses on the way that Jackie mumbles under her breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">her lips wrap around them, and Jan’s almost glad that she’s read <em>the price of salt</em> a thousand times before because whenever she glances down at the pages all that’s on her mind is <em>Jacqueline</em>. Jackie who looks candlelit even by a desk lamp, and Jackie who peers up to Jan at nine thirty hits, gives her the softest smile than Jan’s ever had.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Done”. Jackie whispers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan thinks that if she speaks too loud than she’ll ruin the moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You did it?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She doesn’t have the right to be feeling pride swell in her chest, but her body has other ideas. It grows and ravishes and ignites a flame. Jan places the book down, closed - as if she had been reading it in the first place - and brushes her hair behind her shoulders. Jackie closes her laptop with a calm sigh and Jan doesn’t miss the way her posture relaxes, or how the frown on her forehead dissipates.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah-“. Jackie grins.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her voice is still as quiet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“-God, thank you so much”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No big deal”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Jan means it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">the library was meant to be empty hours ago, but she means it. She means it when Jackie shifts in her chair and will still mean it if Brita ever finds out that it’s almost ten in the night and Jan is still sat in the library with the med student that she’s been flirting with all because Jan thinks that between them, they have something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Possibly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is your roommate that bad?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie’s grin confirms that they do.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s a fashion major and right now our living room looks like a fabric store”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Jan simply laughs, begins helping Jackie pack up with a sadness looming over her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">*****</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan’s never been in the library as late, but she likes it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s quieter than it is at sunset and yet has a new life of its own. The books feel like they’re coming to life around her as she walks through the aisles of literature, copy of the price of salt in hand. She knows where it belongs and searches it out with tired eyes, battling against the exhaustion that’s beginning to take over.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan’s only pulled out of it by the sound of rustling behind her that takes the form of Jackie.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She has the sleeves of her shirt rolled back down her arms, a knitted cardigan tied around her waist. Her satchel is slung over her shoulder and is bulging at the seams with books, notes, Jackie’s laptop. Jan’s able to see the buckle straining even in the low light and Jackie nods towards it with a chuckle, shifts nervously from one foot to the other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for staying, or, rather letting me stay”. Jackie breathes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan doesn’t tell her that she’d do it again without question but from the way that Jackie steps closer, she thinks that she already knows. Jan’s back presses flush against the bookshelf, and though it’s not comfortable, the hand that Jackie places on her waist makes up for it three times over. Her fingertips brush against the slither of skin between the waistband of Jan’s jeans and her cotton shirt, and it’s so much yet not enough.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean <em>really</em>, thank you, Jan”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s whispered between them, and the only flickers of light in the room are peaking through the gaps in the bookshelves. it comes all of the way from the front desk and reflects in the umber of Jackie’s eyes but Jan doesn’t have time to dwell on it because Jackie’s lips are on hers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re only there briefly, and the kiss is as gentle as it cautious. Jackie’s lips are pillowy and Jan could happily sink into them, get lost in Jackie’s hand that pulls away agonisingly. It travels upwards to Jan’s hair, tucks a strand of it behind her ear. One of Jackie’s rings brushes against the small golden hoops dangling from Jan’s lobes and she leans into the touch before it’s gone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My number”. Jackie grins.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her other hand tucks a post it note into Jan’s back pocket.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Permission to text as soon as I get home?”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jan beams right back at her, because it might be dark and Jan may be tired but Jackie is bursting sunlight into the room like it’s the crack of dawn. She takes a step backwards, nods her head eagerly, and Jan has to let her go despite the want to keep pulling her closer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d be offended if you didn’t”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jackie winks at her, yanks her bag back up onto her shoulder from where it had slipped and begins her walk to the exit. Jan stays stood there for a second longer because Jackie has stollen the air from within her lungs. The literature section has a bigger place in Jan’s heart from that day than it had before, and she goes home with her lips still tingling and Jackie’s number on another post it note that will join the first on her desk.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em>
    <strong>Thank you again, sunshine! Here’s my number - Jackie xx</strong>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Thank you for tonight”. Jackie whispers. </p><p>“For what?”. </p><p>Jan keeps her voice just as quiet. The room is calm, serene, and Jan doesn’t want to risk disturbing it. Jackie is looking at her with galaxies in her eyes and it feels too good to ruin. Jan manoeuvres, rests her chin on Jackie’s shoulder and blinks, slowly. Jackie brings a hand to her cheek and strokes a thumb across it and Jan wants to press a kiss to it. She does so, and then places one on her wrist for good measure. Jackie stares at the patch of skin like it’s gold and Jan lets love swell in her heart. </p><p>“Its just been really nice”. Jackie settles. </p><p>The words are weighted and Jan thinks that she understands. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi again!! this has absolutely become one of my favourite things that I've written. I love these dykes, and hope you do to!! I'm also thinking of writing a part 4, so if that's something you'd be interested in, then let me know! (if not then enjoy this part!)</p><p>ps, the poem at the end is "for willyce" by pat Parker if you're interested!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jackie is as bright as the summer months and Jan lets her in one message at a time.</p><p>It begins that night when Jan gets home to Nicky sprawled out across their couch, takeout pizza sat ready for the both of them on the coffee table. She looks up towards Jan with a smirk as if she already knows why Jan’s walking through the door a full three hours later than she should be and Jan guesses that she does, if she’s honest with herself.</p><p>Nicky doesn’t voice her thoughts until Jan sets down her bag. She kicks off her shoes and shakes her hair loose from its up-do first, but when she does, Jan wishes that she hadn’t. The apartment is dark apart from a tall standing lamp in the corner of the room, and Nicky has one of the windows open so that Jan’s ears are filled with horns honking and tyres whirring. Her first instinct is to close them because it’s too much, but Nicky shoots her a warning glance and Jan makes herself semi-comfortable on the opposite side of the couch.</p><p>It feels colder than outside and freezing compared to the library but then Nicky’s gaze softens and Jan knows that she means well. Jan shuffles closer, doesn’t will herself to be stubborn, and accepts Nicky’s silent invitation of sharing half of her blanket. She tosses it across Jan’s lap and Jan smiles gratefully, twists the delicate yarn between her fingers. Nicky lifts the pizza box from the coffee table, balances it on her knees; half of it has pineapple and the other half doesn’t.</p><p>Jan gravitates naturally towards the half that does and Nicky wrinkles her nose. The crust is greasy against Jan’s fingertips, her lips, and there’s a faint smile ghosting them that she’s becoming unable to shake. She knows that Nicky notices it with each bite that she takes and Jan’s beginning to feel warmer once more. The leftovers of her crust gets dipped in honey mustard and it’s then that Nicky decides that the silence has drawn on for long enough.</p><p>“Did Brita make you stay late?”. Nicky’s eyebrow is arched.</p><p>“No”.</p><p>“Did <em>Jackie</em> make you stay late?”.</p><p>“It’s-“. Jan lets out a sigh.</p><p><em>It’s not like that</em>, she wants to say, but knows that it would be a lie. </p><p>She swallows what’s left of her slice of pizza, yet still there’s a smile on her face. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip to calm it but her efforts are futile and Nicky is glaring, still. Jan knows that it’s meant with nothing but love but it still shakes her; her hands are trembling as she wipes sauce from the corners of her mouth, reaches quietly for a second slice.</p><p>“What is it like?”. Nicky simpers.</p><p>And Jan thinks about it.</p><p>She contemplates her words carefully, thinks about what it really is like. She thinks about Jackie and her gentle smile that never quite fades even when she’s frowning, her voice that’s tender and smooth. Jan lets her mind wander to Jackie’s hands that she’s still unable to get out of her mind, the way one had caressed her side, gripped it delicately and -</p><p>- The kiss.</p><p>Jackie’s lips had pressed against hers so softly yet so quickly that Jan had barely had time to register the feeling until Jackie was pulling away, tucking a strand of hair behind Jan’s ear. Her silver rings had bumped against the gold hoops of Jan’s earrings and she’d done so with a faint blush rising from her neck. A post it note had been slipped into the pocket of her jeans and Jan had handed back a promise that she would use it; she will use it and she tells Nicky as much.</p><p>“She gave me her number”.</p><p>“She gave you her number?”.</p><p>“And we kissed”.</p><p>“You <em>kissed</em>?!”.</p><p>Nicky drops her half eaten second, or maybe it’s her third slice of pizza back into the box and it’s as dramatic for Jan as it is embarrassing. She’s able to feel her cheeks flushing, and presses a greasy hand to one of them with an airy giggle. Nicky’s lips purse and her eyebrows raise but Jan settles for nodding her head slowly, a grin inching its way onto her face. Jan takes another bite of her pizza to avoid the inevitable but Nicky has never been good at taking hints and talking about Jackie seems to be no exception.</p><p>“Is this a thing now?”. Nicky prods.</p><p>“I don’t know”.</p><p>Jan answers her honestly, because as much as she hopes it will grow to be a thing, that herself and Jackie will together make something, she doesn’t know. She has Jackie’s number scrawled in cursive on a post it note in her back pocket, and their kiss on loop in her head but she knows that it could all amount to nothing. Nicky’s chewing through her pizza slowly with wide eyes and Jan finds herself reaching for another slice.</p><p>“Do you want it to be, though?”. Nicky’s eyes narrow.</p><p>“Nicolette, that’s a dumb question”. Jan sings.</p><p>Her tongue peeks out frown between her teeth, licks across her top lip. Jan dares to laugh, because the conversation is coming easier than she ever thought it would. She nudges another slice of pizza in Nicky’s direction and Nicky picks it up with a <em>thanks</em> mumbled around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. Jan tucks her legs beneath herself, leans her head against the back of the couch and turns to Nicky who’s back to looking at her expectantly. </p><p>“Well?”. Nicky drawls.</p><p>“Yes, obviously”.</p><p>Jan wants it to be a thing.</p><p>She clears her slice of pizza, wipes her greasy fingertips on a napkin. The window is still open and Jan is still colder than she wants to be but the smile that Nicky gives her along with the yarn of the blanket thrown over her lap are helping. She buries her hands beneath it, toes off her socks in order to press her toes into the suede of the couch. Nicky grins to reveal pepper stuck in her teeth and Jan’s laughing openly, reaching for a glass of water that’s sat on the coffee table.</p><p>“Then text her already!”.</p><p>“I will-“. Jan sighs.</p><p>“-I will”.</p><p>*****</p><p>It starts that night.</p><p>Jan retreats to her bedroom, switches on the string of rainbow fairy lights that she has above her desk. They colour her white cotton sheets in reds and blues and yellows and greens and she falls amongst them once she’s swapped her jeans for an oversized plaid shirt. She’d showered that morning and she’s warm beneath the duvet; Jackie’s post it note is clutched in one hand and her phone is in the other.</p><p>She types the number in slowly, and then spends even more time composing her first text. Jan sends it off nervously and wants to kick herself because they’ve already kissed and it’s just a text but she can’t. Jackie is stirring feelings within her stronger than anybody else ever has and it’s scary, disarming. Jan sinks further into her mattress and stares longingly at her screen, watches as Jackie’s messages begin to flood through like waves in real time.</p><p><span class="u">May 2nd</span> </p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Hey Jackie, it’s Jan!</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Hi!</em>
</p><p>*****</p><p>They text until it’s three in the morning.</p><p>Jan falls asleep with a smile on her face and her phone on her chest that when she wakes up, illuminates with a message from Jackie. It reads a simple I hope you slept well but the words settle warmly in Jan’s chest. They stay there as Jan rolls over in bed, squints against the light blaring through the curtains. They stay there even as she rises, showers and begins her morning run through the local park. They’re still there come lunch when Jan checks her phone to see Jackie’s name lit up on her screen.</p><p>She takes it as a good sign.</p><p>
  <span class="u">May 3rd</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Are you busy?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Just got done with a morning run</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What’s up?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I need your opinion</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Hit me!</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m looking at houseplants</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Do you think Ms cactus or Mr succulent?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Are you gendering plants, Jacqueline?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Hush, I’ll send you a picture</em>
</p><p>Jan slumps on her living room couch, knees tucked beneath her chin as she awaits Jackie’s picture. Her forehead is still damp with sweat and the baby hairs curling around her hairline have begun sticking to it. She brushes them away feebly and holds her phone close to her face. Her eyes cross and her hand shakes but it doesn’t seem important when Jackie’s messaging again, and a grin spreads like wildfire across Jan’s lips.</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I am in plant heaven</em>
</p><p>The picture that Jackie sends catches Jan off guard more than she had prepared for. She digs her teeth hard into her bottom lip at the sight of a smiling Jackie surrounded by plants. Jan thinks that she looks like the queen of the jungle with her hair flowing around her shoulders, denim overalls covering a white t-shirt. There’s a pin attached to the left strap that reads <em>listen to lesbians</em> and Jan lets out a giggle before Jackie’s asking her whether she prefers the cactus in the terracotta pot or the succulent in the turquoise one.</p><p>And all Jan’s able to focus on is Jackie’s skin that’s sun kissed, dusted with freckles.</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Is there an option for both?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>There just might be</em>
</p><p>*****</p><p>
  <span class="u">May 8th</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Did I tell you I have a cat</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh my god</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No way</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You do?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is it cute?!!!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of course it’s cute</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Forget I asked that</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>His name’s Bubblegum</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>What</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jacqueline what the fuck</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>George Orwell aka Bubblegum because my roommate Gigi thought George was weird</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I can confirm that bubblegum is weirder, sorry about it</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>You might be right</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But look</em>
</p><p>Jackie sends through a picture, one of Gigi holding Bubblegum. He’s grey and beige and looks like he’d be content to sleep for the next decade. Jan falls in love with him immediately and sends back a joking candid of Nicky, curled up on the corner of their couch. She’s wrapped up in a blanket and doesn’t look too dissimilar to Bubblegum, head resting in the palm of her hand. Her feet are propped up on the coffee where she’s bushed a stack of magazines to the side and there’s a tv remote gripped in her free hand.</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>This is my bitch</em>
</p><p>A giggle leaves Jan’s lips, and it catches Nicky’s attention. She looks up from beneath a set of false lashes that have been on since that morning and narrows her eyes knowingly. Jan diverts her gaze as her cheeks are set aflame and wants the suede of the couch to swallow her up. It doesn’t do so, no matter how much she wishes it would, and she’s forced to accept the smirk that Nicky throws her way.</p><p>“What are you smiling about?”.</p><p>“Nothing-“. Jan shrugs.</p><p>“-Jackie’s cat is just <em>really</em> cute”. She squeals.</p><p>Nicky scrunches her nose. She chuckles lowly, in the back of her throat, and shuffles from beneath the blanket. She moves closer, until she’s sat barely a foot away from Jan on the couch and scoffs quietly. The clock on the wall reads ten minutes to eleven and Jan knows that she has to drain the conversation for all it’s worth before she loses Nicky to reruns of reality tv for the remainder of the night.</p><p>“That better not be a euphemism”. Nicky snickers.</p><p>Jan lets out a huff, turns to Nicky with a glare that’s meant to be menacing but comes off as petulant. Nicky rolls her eyes and accompanies the gesture with a grin, and Jan knows that she’s lost. She lets her head fall back, rest against the back of the couch, and drops her phone into her lap.</p><p>“Shut up”. Jan groans.</p><p>She shows Nicky her phone despite herself and Nicky’s eyes widen briefly. She bites at the inside of her cheek, and Jan watches as her eyes scan the screen. The trail across it like the early summer rain trails down the glass of the windows outside and Jan has to stop her own smirk from growing as Nicky’s jaw tightens, then becomes slack once more. Nicky lifts her hand, points a weak finger at the picture of Gigi and Bubblegum that’s slowly fading to black.</p><p>“That’s not Jackie”. Nicky comments.</p><p>And it’s obvious, but Jan snorts.</p><p>“No-“. Jan shakes her head.</p><p>“-It’s her roommate Gigi”.</p><p>Nicky nods her head, as if impassive. She keeps staring at the screen of Jan’s phone, reaches out to zoom in on Gigi’s face. Jan is unsuccessful in holding back her chuckles that are becoming a constant but Nicky doesn’t seem to notice; another five minutes have ticked past and Jan is tired but Nicky is interested and this is different.</p><p>“She’s cute”. Nicky mutters.</p><p>Objectively, Jan thinks that Gigi is. But Jan also happens to think that the sight of one of Jackie’s corduroy shirts in the background of the picture speaks more volumes to her than Gigi ever will. She thinks that the beauty of Jackie and her eyes that shine bronze, chestnut, far outweigh the plain blue of Gigi’s. She thinks the same about Jackie’s smile and hair and mind and, all of her her, <em>Objectively</em>.</p><p>“I guess”. Jan shrugs.</p><p>Nicky stops tapping at Jan’s phone screen, turns the volume of the tv down two notches with the remote still in hand. The room is doused in quiet and the sound of the rain against the glass of the windows is amplified. It’s audible above Nicky’s faint hum but not her words that are a little above a whisper, a mumble. She places the remote down onto the coffee table and it lands with a thump.</p><p>“Can you get me her number?”. Nicky grins.</p><p>And it’s typical, so Jan voices it.</p><p>“Predictable, Nicky”.</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Hey Jack</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p><em>Yes</em>?</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Nicky said Gigi is cute</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>You’re lying</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Babe I wish</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Gigi just said and I quote</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is she gay and is she open to doing gay things</em>
</p><p>Nicky has inched her way closer, closer. Her face hovers over Jan’s phone as she texts and Jan doesn’t hold back her smirk as Nicky gasps, beams, looks up towards her. The rain outside comes to a halt and as the clock hits eleven Nicky’s smile still doesn’t falter; her mouth drops at the sight of Jackie’s message and Jan is already contemplating abandoning her college degree and becoming a matchmaker.</p><p>“The answer is yes!”. Nicky grins.</p><p>*****</p><p>
  <span class="u">May 17th</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>So</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nicky and Gigi are actually talking</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I heard Gigi on the phone this morning</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To Nicky</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Jan and Jackie’s matchmaking service?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>That has a ring to it</em>
</p><p>*****</p><p>
  <span class="u">May 20th</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>How do you feel about donuts</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p><em>Yes</em> </p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll be at the library in ten</em>
</p><p>*****</p><p>
  <span class="u">May 25th</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Nicky and Gigi are going on a date</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaqueline</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I repeat</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’re going on a date</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Right now</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nicky’s wearing fancy lingerie</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My</em>
</p><p>
  <em>God</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I know </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>If they end up dating is this our fault?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Absolutely</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I’m ok with that</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Also</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come over tonight?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Are you offering just so you don’t have to listen to whatever Gigi and Nicky get up to?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Partly</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I’d really like to see you again</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Give me an hour</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll tell Gigi she has the apartment to herself</em>
</p><p>*****</p><p>
  <span class="u">May 31st</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s so hot today</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes you are</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Does this library not have air con?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Do you think somewhere this old would have air con?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Point made</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lunch today?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I’d like that</em>
</p><p>*****</p><p>Their relationship had formed and revolved around the library but when it begins to exist outside of it Jan, starts to fall a little bit in love.</p><p>And acts like she wasn’t already.</p><p>It’s been a month, or maybe two, and Jan’s never felt quite as warm. She works her four days a week at the library and sees Jackie there most of the time but when she doesn’t, she sees Jackie in restaurants and quaint cafe’s and her apartment. Jackie makes herself comfortable the moment that she steps foot out of the elevator and Jan becomes unable to imagine a time when Jackie wasn’t flitting around her kitchen on a regular basis, making Jan homemade rice dishes and coaxing her into trying new banana bread recipes.</p><p>They kiss on the fire escape and hold hands as they watch tv. They listen to music that they dig from Jan’s old CD collection, read each other poetry whilst their legs are tangled beneath cream sheets. Jackie looks ethereal illuminated by the rainbow glow of Jan’s fairy lights and Jan makes it her mission to remember how each shade of blue, purple, and orange reflects in Jackie’s eyes. She thinks she has it memorised after however long it’s been but decides on a menial Monday, when she wakes up for the first time in weeks without Jackie at her side, that she wants it forever.</p><p>Jan rolls over in bed.</p><p>It’s barely six, but she’s wrapped in Jackie’s shirt and smells like Jackie’s perfume and she feels very much awake. She lays staring at the ceiling, fingers ghosting over the fabric of her duvet. One leg is sprawled out on top of it and the other stays tucked beneath but the room is already heating up. She’d neglected to close her curtains the night before and the sun is like ribbons peering through them. Jan lets herself get lost in them and presses her face into her pillow with a contented sigh.</p><p>she only reaches for her glasses and her phone when the clock hits seven.</p><p>
  <span class="u">June 12th</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Morning Jacqueline, what’re you doing today?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m visiting my family this afternoon, haven’t seen them in a while </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Where do they live?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Just outside of the city</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Excited?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Not really</em>
</p><p>And Jan knows about Jackie’s mom. She knows that their relationship is strained, tense, and understands why. Her mom is a first generation immigrant and Jackie is queer and the two things were never meant to mix no matter how much Jackie tells Jan that she longs for them to. Jackie’s dad is the polar opposite and Jan is glad that Jackie has him but she still doesn’t know what she can do to make it better. If anything.</p><p>It isn’t her place, she acknowledges, so she deflects.</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Come over tonight?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Absolutely</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll bring snacks</em>
</p><p>*****</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Hey Jan</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p><em>Yessss</em>?</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I have acquired the goods</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The goods being jalebi</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m coming over</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Be there in twenty</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope you’re ready to fall into a sugar coma</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p><em>Always</em> </p><p>*****</p><p>Jan has a leg hooked across Jackie’s waist.</p><p>There’s a hand on her back and gentle fingers in her hair and she’s <em>happy</em>.</p><p>Jackie’s humming along quietly to the stereo that’s playing in the background and Jan lets her eyes fall closed to the sound of it, the feeling of Jackie’s warm breath against her forehead. Her fingertips begin drumming against the small of Jan’s back and travel upwards, press at the notches of her spine and then her shoulder blades. Jan relaxes into it, lets herself bask in the low light and the humid air and Jackie. All three make a heady combination and Jan feels blissfully drunk.</p><p>Sighing, Jackie’s lips place a kiss to Jan’s forehead. Jan leans into it, rests her head against Jackie’s bare chest. They’re skin to skin beneath the sheets and Jan doesn’t want them to part. There’s a candle lit on Jan’s dresser in the far corner of the room and there are swirls of fresh cotton, vanilla and sex floating around them. Jan lets a hand brush absentmindedly across the expanse of Jackie’s thigh and Jackie giggles mutely, tightens her grip around Jan.</p><p>In return, Jan holds her that little bit closer.</p><p>“Thank you for tonight”. Jackie whispers.</p><p>“For what?”.</p><p>Jan keeps her voice just as quiet. The room is calm, serene, and Jan doesn’t want to risk disturbing it. Jackie is looking at her with galaxies in her eyes and it feels too good to ruin. Jan manoeuvres, rests her chin on Jackie’s shoulder and blinks, slowly. Jackie brings a hand to her cheek and strokes a thumb across it and Jan wants to press a kiss to it. She does so, and then places one on her wrist for good measure. Jackie stares at the patch of skin like it’s gold and Jan lets love swell in her heart.</p><p>“Its just been really nice”. Jackie settles.</p><p>The words are weighted and Jan thinks that she understands.</p><p>“Yeah-“. Jan smiles.</p><p>She leans up, kisses Jackie languidly, because Jan’s lived in her apartment for nearly two years and it’s never felt so much like home before.</p><p>“-It’s been <em>really</em> nice”.</p><p>*****</p><p>
  <span class="u">June 19th</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Working today?</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jan</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>As always</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Jackie</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>See you there, sunshine!</em>
</p><p>Jan spends her morning at the front desk.</p><p>It’s sweltering inside the library, and Jan doesn’t dare to imagine what it’s going to be like come the end of July or the beginning of August because it’s barely midway through June and she’s already sweating through her makeup. The blush that she’d applied that morning to her cheeks is becoming patchy and her mascara is transferring beneath her eyes, creasing in the faint lines around them. She swipes at the black smudges with the tips of her fingers but it does little to help and a lot to make it situation worse.</p><p>She’s wearing a denim skirt with a chiffon tank top tucked in, accompanied with her usual chunky sneakers. Jan becomes thankful that her desk chair isn’t leather because she isn’t sure how she’d be coping with the constant tack against her thighs, the uncomfortable stickiness. The fabric of the swivel chair is questionable enough and she complains to Brita about it over a peach iced tea and half a packet of ginger biscuits.</p><p>Brita nods along but Jan knows that she’s checked out for the day when she stamps three wrong books in a row and Jan is left to correct them. She jokes that she’s getting heatstroke from the desktop computer that’s getting too hot with its whirring fan and Jan lets out a cackle that draws an obnoxious hush from another passing librarian. In return they only laugh louder and when lunch rolls around Jan settles for two lemon popsicles that she finds in the back of their freezer in the staff room.</p><p>She eats them while propped against the countertop and watches with amusement as Brita cranes her head out of the window. The breeze fans her hair and Jan offers her a scrunchie from her wrist, encourages her to sweep it back. Brita does so, and when she leaves ten minutes before Jan’s due to lock up that night, she takes the lavender scrunchie with her.</p><p>Jan doesn’t mind.</p><p>She begins flicking off each light, one by one. The sun has only just started setting beyond the tall windows and the oak features are lit up amber, citrine. Shadows bounce off of bookshelves and dust particles look like glitter. Jan walks through storms of them as she fleets through the poetry, picks up a copy of <em>My lover is a Woman</em>. She grips the tattered paperback tightly in one hand and clutches her heart in the other. Her feet walk her around the corner to the biology section and it’s only then that she lets herself relax.</p><p>Because Jackie is there like she had promised she would be and Jan is definitely in love.</p><p>Even if it’s only the beginnings of it.</p><p>“Hey babe”. Jackie grins.</p><p>She looks up from her laptop, fingers still typing, and Jan doesn’t understand how she does it. Her hair is gathered in a loose bun at the base of her neck, and she has a green pen tucked behind her ear. She’s wearing silver and turquoise earrings, the same ones that she’s been wearing religiously for the past month, and Jan has grown to adore the way they match the stones that adorn the silver ring she wears on her thumb. Jan offers her a soft smile in return and slips into the opposite side of the study booth.</p><p>Jackie bumps her foot against Jan’s shin beneath the table, stops typing. She closes her laptop, untucks the pen from behind her ear. She drops it to the table, and then reaches out across it. Jan slots her hand easily into Jackie’s and squeezes it once, twice. Their fingers lace together like evergreen vines and Jan doesn’t have any intention of letting go. Jackie adjusts the strap of her linen overalls with her free hand and Jan doesn’t miss the way the muscle of her bicep flexes beneath her white t-shirt.</p><p>“What are you writing this time?”. Jan clears her throat.</p><p>Jackie lets go to point at a journal on <em>preventative medicine</em>. It’s open on the desk, glowing beneath the lamp that Jackie’s purposefully dimmed, and no matter how much Jackie has tried to explain the ins and outs of her degree, Jan is still none the wiser. Jan aces her major of music and her minor of Russian literature - Jackie’s eyes had widened upon discovery - yet talk of genes and antibodies float in one ear and out of the other.</p><p>“Sara Josephine Baker and preventative medicine”.</p><p>“Thrilling”.</p><p>Jackie chuckles, bites at her lip.</p><p>“Actually-“. She drawls.</p><p>“She destroyed most of her personal papers but, apparently she was a bit of a lesbian”.</p><p>Jackie’s eyes are glinting mischievously, and Jan’s leaning instinctively closer. The wood of the table still separates them but Jan arches eyebrow, looks on inquisitively. Jackie nods her head in confirmation and Jan’s unable to deny that it’s an interesting fact; Jackie lights up when talking about the queer history within her field and Jan understands it, relates to it.</p><p>“Oh wow, me too”. Jan jokes.</p><p>“I never would have guessed”.</p><p>“No? Is our relationship not lesbian enough?”.</p><p>Jackie reaches for her hand once more, drags her short nails teasingly across Jan’s palm. Jan closes her fingers around them reflexively but Jackie doesn’t respond. She pulls Jan’s hand closer instead, lifts it towards her lips and places a kiss to her knuckles. Jackie’s wearing a pink tinted lip balm and it transfers to Jan’s skin but she likes it, loves it. Jackie leaves behind her mark in every way and even when she lets Jan’s hand go again, they’re both still smiling.</p><p>They settle into a comfortable silence. It’s become a given that Jan never leaves the library when she’s scheduled to when she works the closing shift. She instead meets Jackie at the booth that she’s claimed for herself and lets Jackie pull herself slowly from the depths of writing her assignments, researching new methods. Jan says nothing as Jackie opens her laptop back up, writes for the next half an hour before closing it again. Jan busies herself with reading short extracts from <em>my lover is a woman</em> and gazing at Jackie over the edge of it.</p><p>Her brows are furrowed in concentration, but once she nods her head happily, confirms to Jan that she’s done for the night, they even themselves out. Jackie leans back in the booth, sighs through parted lips. Jan mirrors her with her copy of the book still held limply in her hand and Jackie cocks her head, intrigued.</p><p>“What are you reading?”. She squints.</p><p>“Pat Parker”.</p><p>“Can I see?”.</p><p>Jan hums affirmatively, and shuffles over in her side of the booth. Jackie rises, joins her, and Jan’s bracketed in by Jackie’s hand resting on her knee and the cloud of vanilla that engulfs her. Her eyes flutter closed briefly and she almost drops the book to the floor when Jackie’s hand travels, migrates an inch or two upwards.</p><p>It keeps moving, yet Jackie’s expression remains nonchalant. Her breath is tickling Jan’s cheek as both of their eyes scan the page that Jan has landed on and Jan has to focus on not whining high in her throat. Jackie lets her lips skim Jan’s temple, and Jan leans into the touch like it’s the only thing she knows. Jackie hums, fingertips brushing against the hem of Jan’s skirt; Jan blinks up towards her, eyes wide and hands trembling.</p><p>“Read it to me?-”. Jackie coaxes.</p><p>“-Please?”. She adds.</p><p>Jan is dumbfounded.</p><p>She exhales an effected <em>yes</em>, because there’s no other thought apart from yes that is coherent enough to express. Jackie’s touch is confident, certain, and she wants more of it. Jan’s breaking out in goosebumps despite burning from the inside out and one look at Jackie’s smirk tells her that she already knows. It’s why Jan reads the poem aloud, stutters through each word as Jackie presses kiss after kiss to her temple, cheek, jaw, continues her exploration of Jan’s thighs.</p><p>“Pretty”. Jackie breathes.</p><p>Jan leans further into her touch, clenches her thighs around Jackie’s hand and then lets them part. They spread as if on their own accord, and the low chuckle that Jackie exhales is enough to have Jan mewling. Her nails dig in to the spine of the book and Jackie’s teeth are grazing against her earlobe, tugging gently on the gold hoops that are looped through them. Jan whispers a gentle please and Jackie nods her head.</p><p>“Is this ok?”.</p><p>“Mhmm”.</p><p>“Read it again for me”.</p><p>“You want me to-“.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>”.</p><p>“While you-“.</p><p>“Yes, baby”. Jackie asserts.</p><p>And this time, Jan does whine. It’s high pitched, gets caught in the back of her throat, but Jackie chuckles and kisses at her jaw as she swallows and she’s growing wetter between her thighs. Jan holds onto the book like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded and lets her head fall back against the booth. Jackie kisses from her jaw and down to her neck, sucks at her pulse point until Jan is whimpering. Jan doesn’t have time to worry about her makeup that is still smudging or her hair that’s frizzing when Jackie’s shooting bolts of electricity down her spine just with a handful of kisses.</p><p>“Jacks”. Jan pleads.</p><p>“Read it”.</p><p>Jackie kisses Jan’s lips, then, hot and deep and loving. Jan melts into it, and as Jackie licks into her mouth, cups her through her underwear, she lets out a moan that’s sinful. Jackie hums in response and bites at Jan’s lower lip as she pulls away. It’s swollen and puffy, and Jan bites her own teeth into it as Jackie’s kisses travel lower, begin sucking at the base of her neck.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>“. Jan pants.</p><p>“Read it”.</p><p>Jackie pushes the fabric of Jan’s tank top up her stomach, presses her palm to her chest. It heaves under Jackie’s touch and Jan’s eyes blur as she looks to the pages of the book, words forming illegible swirls of letters. The word love blinks over and over and Jackie’s lips are wrapping around her nipple, sucking and drawing moans that Jan forgets she’s capable of until Jackie is drawing them from her.</p><p>One hand remains on Jan’s thigh. Jackie looks up at her with hooded eyes, blown out pupils, and Jan knows that her expression is much of the same. She clears her throat, searches for a sense of composure that’s long gone. The opening line of the poem is on the tip of her tongue and she lets it fall like a deadweight when Jackie settles on her knees, between her thighs.</p><p>
  <em>“When I make love to you”</em>
</p><p>Jan’s words are shaky and quiet but it doesn’t matter. They make Jackie smile, and then they have her pressing her fingers to Jan through her underwear and Jan wants to scream. She doesn’t, though she wants to, and instead spreads her legs further, focuses her eyes back on the page in front of her. She’s holding the cover of it with one hand and has the other weaved in Jackie’s hair, tugging gently.</p><p>
  <em>“I try, with each stroke of my tongue”</em>
</p><p>Jackie’s fingers are digging into her thighs, leaving prints that Jan doesn’t want to fade. She keeps her nails short but the drag of them is enticing, makes jan heady. Jan catches her breath between lines as Jackie nudges the fabric of her underwear to the side, soft cotton and lace damp in the crevice between hip and thigh. Jackie grins at the sight of Jan dripping, clenching around nothing, and arches a smug eyebrow.</p><p>
  <em>“To say, I love you”</em>
</p><p>Jackie is teasing at first. She licks the wetness that has pooled around Jan’s thighs, works her way slowly to her lips. She sucks each one into her mouth at a pace that’s agonising, and Jan’s hips buck against her face. Jackie is careful to hold her down, offers her a glare that serves as all of the warning Jan needs. She wraps one hand under one thigh and uses the other to part Jan’s lips; Jan feels like she’s one step away from breaking.</p><p>
  <em>“To tease, I love you”</em>
</p><p>Two fingers curl easily inside of her. Jackie looks up at her and Jan spots awe behind her eyes. They’re glassy, blown out, and it takes her seconds to find that one spot that makes every muscle in Jan’s body tighten. She clenches around Jackie’s fingers, drips down her wrist, and watches as Jackie licks up each drop eagerly. Her lips wrap around Jan’s clit and Jan is sinking yet floating, flying whilst falling.</p><p>
  <em>“To hammer, I love you”</em>
</p><p>The knot in Jan’s gut is unravelling, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. Jackie’s fingers curl faster, harder, and Jan scrunches her eyes closed against the words on the page. The <em>I love you</em>’s burn through her skull and Jackie mutters them against her, gives her a look that feels soft, tender, open. </p><p>
  <em>“To melt, I love you”</em>
</p><p>Jan tugs on Jackie’s hair sharply, and Jackie whines around her clit. The vibrations have Jan trembling and she’s on the verge of coming, wet around Jackie’s fingers. Jackie looks up towards her, grips her thigh as she doubles her efforts. The sun outside is on its way to eclipsing the horizon and Jan opens her eyes once more to the sight of golds and tangerines and Jackie. She nods her head once more, offers Jan the hand that had been gripping her thighs; Jan laces their fingers together and they feel like one.</p><p>
  <em>“And your sounds drift down..”</em>
</p><p><em>“Fuck-”. </em>Jan gasps<em>.</em></p><p>“-Jacks, fuck, coming”. She stutters.</p><p>Her speech is broken but it doesn’t need to be anything more than it is - decelerations of pleasure and want and love. She’s sweating and panting but a warmth spreads throughout her body. Jackie keeps pumping her fingers, lets Jan ride out her orgasm. It comes in waves, ebbs away like the sweetest sugar. Jan’s hold on Jackie’s hair loosens as the room grows dark and Jackie presses one last kiss to Jan’s thigh.</p><p>She readjusts Jan’s underwear with a devotion that she’s becoming used to, slowly, and kisses her way back up to Jan’s lips.</p><p>“You taste-“. Jackie punctuates between kisses.</p><p>“-<em>So</em> fucking good”.</p><p>And Jan lets herself laugh.</p><p>Because it’s almost nine on a Sunday night and Jackie is pulling her down to her chest, telling her that she <em>loves her too.</em></p><p>“I want a milkshake” jan admits</p><p>Jackie licks across her lips, places a peck to Jan’s forehead.</p><p>“Take a second-“. Jackie grins.</p><p>“-Then we’ll go”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m also on tumblr @ janhytes!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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